An Unfinished Declaration
by RedValkyrie
Summary: All her little secrets...Oh, it would be a violation; that was sure, but he had no illusions that he was ever an innocent. His thumb sank deeper into the fold of the page and the book spread itself for him as a willing little trollop, begging to be read.
1. A Marvelously Terrible Thing

_A/N:_ This is my response to Izabel Lightwood's : The 500 Prompt Challenge. My prompt was lightning and my characters Severus and Hermione.

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K.R nor do I own Harry Potter...a lamentable fact.

**An Unfinished Declaration **

**Chapter 1: A Marvelously Terrible Thing**

Severus reclined on his couch and threw his feet up on the arm. It was rare he allowed himself such repose in the middle of the day but his third year Slytherins and Gryffindors had been absolutely exhausting. They were usually fairly benign, but they outdid themselves today…three melted cauldrons, two explosions, and one little child had actually managed to catch herself and subsequently his robes, on fire. To top it off, there was a storm brewing and the change in barometric pressure had given him a decent headache…and none of his potions had much effect that particular meteorological phenomenon. He just needed a break…and his couch would do nicely if not for the sharp object digging into his back. He fished a hand behind himself and caught the corner of the offending item. He brought it around and was unsurprised to find it to be a book.

He thumbed through the pages, skimming the words without really reading them. It wasn't a library book or one of his personal digests, as he originally thought; no he recognized it now. It was hand scribed, written in deft, academic letters with a slightly feminine bend. Another thing his detail-oriented eyes caught was that several pages were addressed to him. Curious.

He sat and stared at the book, feeling the insignificant weight of it as it sat in his hands. It was small, bound in nondescript black leather filled with bland, cream-colored pages, the words within written in ordinary black ink. It was a marvelously terrible thing to consider...

He reached for the bottle of Ogden's he had resting on the side table near the arm of the couch, then stopped himself as he remembered he still had a couple of classes left for the day. He silently cursed them and brought his hand back to the book, placing his thumb between the cover and first page that held his name, letting it sit there whilst he contemplated. She must have lost it between the cushions last time she was over for a visit and things had become…fun.

He'd seen her carrying the little diary, having it with her at the staff table, sitting on her desk in her classroom, tucked away in her dress pocket, only the corner peeking out when she moved. He'd often wondered what its pages held, and now knowing he was the addressee of several…oh, it was indeed tempting. Over these months in which they'd become…_close_, never had he asked her about it...and never had she offered up its contents.

Their relationship... had, for lack of a better term, _mutated_, eight months ago. Unbelievably, it was a Quidditch game that sparked the entire affair, Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff. Much to his chagrin, they'd both been appointed referees. He'd made a call against Ravenclaw; she had challenged his ruling. It got ugly...fast. Neither of them had a proverbial dog in the fight, but neither was particularly practiced in concession either. It started out fairly civil, the argument based upon a difference of opinion concerning the rules. However it quickly escalated into personal attacks and character assassination. She'd called him an unfair, egotistical villain, he informed her she was a frigid spinster and a loudmouth, shrewish harpy... they continued flinging their insults even as they were being escorted from the field by the Headmistress and Professor Flitwick. Once they were alone again, behind the east stands, still arguing, she'd slapped him, and in return; he'd kissed her passionately and then yelled at her for her impertinence. It was inevitable really. You drop an ember to as much tender as they'd been collecting; you're bound to get a fire.

They'd become 'official' about a week later.

In reality, it started long before that, the first indications came to light when she'd accepted a teaching post following her apprenticeship and subsequent mastery in the practical world of magic. She was, he found, a little more jaded and a little more world weary, but a war and an extended stint in academia will do that to a person. Not that he minded. Honestly, her faded sense of self-righteousness and 'know-it-allism' was, in his opinion, a mark in her favor.

No one was surprised at her eventual return. Everyone always assumed she'd make her way back to Hogwarts at some point in her life, though he postulated it was to provide herself with unrestricted access to the library under the charade of a professorship. She'd found the comment funny, until she realized he was serious. That was the first argument they'd had as colleagues. Oh, after that, the effort had been made, and made quite thoroughly to avoid her, but no, fate found fit to put them together because fate was, as always, a bitch. It was a cross-disciplinary project that had created the need for a partnership. Where staff meetings and official school obligations had been the only source of their interactions, now evenings passed into night and night into pre-dawn as she formulated equation after equation while he brewed. It was all because of some inelegant conclusion he'd discovered in an theoretical potion manuscript and though he was loath to admit it, his own failings when it came to Arithmancy. He assumed his need for her skill was simply another penance for the ill acts of his misspent youth, and she was, sadly, the only way to make his restitution. He cursed Vector every day for her early retirement.

They argued over every developmental stage, and when that failed to suffice, personal defect. He insulted her calculations; she criticised his stirring methods. He made sport of her hair; she informed him his left little room to talk. They quite honestly assumed they hated each other. He, her former teacher, the 'git,' the 'dungeon bat,' or simply 'Snape' as that was enough to imply insult on occasion. She, the 'swot,' the 'simple Gryffindor,' 'Granger,' it was clear; they never stood a chance. He would seek her out to fight on some insignificant point; she would knock on his door at some unholy hour every Saturday morning to go over the 'obvious gaps,' in his formula. Yes, they hated each other until they very obviously...didn't.

It was the small things he thought, that brought them to that stupid moment behind the bleachers…_behind the bleachers_, Merlin, that sounded so adolescent. He remembered the first time she laughed in genuine at something he'd said, the brush of her hand as they reached for a bottle at the same moment, the smell of her hair, mixed with all the perfumes of the cauldron…and of course, her irritating brilliance. He thought of how much he actually did enjoy her company, even when they were fighting…perhaps, especially when they were fighting. He thought she was lovely…stupifyingly lovely! All of her, her mannerisms, her mind, her ability to spit venom at him with a tenacity that equaled his own, and yes, oh yes…her body. Maybe it wasn't what most men would lose themselves for, but Merlin he wanted it…badly. He was, he knew, irrevocably attracted to every aspect of her. He only half-mockingly contemplated suicide at the realisation.

...And now, here he sat, all these months later, with her little book of secrets resting in his hand. Oh, it would be a violation; that was sure, but he had no illusions that he was ever an innocent. His thumb sank deeper into the fold of the page and the book spread itself for him as a willing little trollop, begging to be read.


	2. A Maelstrom of Words

**An Unfinished Declaration**

**Chapter 2: A Maelstrom of Words  
**

_Oct. 15__th_

_Professor Snape,_

_You…you…detestable libertine! How dare you? How, how dare you do such a thing? First you take such audacious freedoms with my person, and then you have the gall to berate me for them? You __would__ act as if I was the perpetrator of such impropriety! I maintain my earlier call that you sir, are a villain!_

_How dare you kiss me like that? You with your unmitigated passion, your wanton, forceful lust, your… overpowering sensations, yes, right, how dare you then? It is not within your rights to take me in your arms and pull me close, pressing me into your body, into your taut, surprisingly muscular…I will not be sidetracked! You, you can't just put your lips wherever you like! I'm not some…some plaything for you to devour, moving hungrily over me as if…like some kind of animal. You animal… _

_Bloody hell._

This only encouraged him to read further.

_Oct. 22__nd_

_Severus Snape,_

_Try as I might, it appears as if I have been unable to remove you from my thoughts. Merlin knows why! Please trust that I do still find you quite detestable and thusly, I hate you. I hate very much about you actually. Let's start with your face. I'll have you know I find it quite odious. I find myself staring at it often, aghast at its offensiveness, your ludicrous nose always sniffing in indignation, your black eyes being so…ridiculously...black, and your insipid eyebrow, always raised at me as if I'm some kind of question. Let's not forget your mouth, as I hate it most of all. Always smirking at me, that little curve at the corner as it settles into that slight hook of a line right below that almost imperceptible dimple…it…is, so very stupid. _

_I'd very much like to kiss that stupid, stupid mouth again, you miserable jerk._

His lips twitched upwards and he flipped through the pages, landing on a later passage.

* * *

_Dec. 17__th_

_Severus,_

_Do you realize it's been two months now? How truly odd is that? I never would have thought it would have lasted this long…surely one of us should have poisoned the other's tea by now. Not that I don't still want to on occasion mind you. However, despite the fact that you are a cantankerous malcontent, I find I'm increasingly fond of you. Amazing, isn't it? You seem to think me less of "an irritating chit sent to punish me for my sins," as well. Sometimes, you're even sweet, though I'm sure you'd find that attribution abhorrent. _

_It doesn't hurt matters that you've still got that voice. Thank the gods your throat healed properly. I love that voice, always have. I love it when you talk as we kiss…the way it rumbles into my mouth. It's like power and weakness rolled together, steel and silk in every word, makes my knees go to jelly._

_You should be done with classes in ten minutes…_

No wonder she made him repeat himself so often! He'd thought the girl was suffering from hearing loss. He'd just tuck that knowledge away for later. He continued to flip through the pages, searching for the ones addressed to him…whilst skimming over the other entries.

* * *

_Dec. 25__th_

_Severus,_

_How did you know? This is the only thing I really wanted for Christmas. I don't care that it wasn't wrapped. I don't care that you were scowling when you handed it to me. I don't care that you brushed off my poor attempt at thanks. The fact that you knew…did I even mention it to you? I don't recall telling anyone else about it. I saw it the bookshop…in Muggle London. I must have mentioned it, I must have. You went to Muggle London! You dear man, and all I bought for you was a green, silk cravat. I may have told you of the book, but I know I didn't tell how very badly I wanted it. I wish I could have found better words of gratitude. I know this was no small expenditure on your part. I shouldn't even accept it…but…_

_An autographed first edition of The Cat In The Hat, the first book I ever read…Severus…_

She had mentioned it, only in passing, but it stuck with him. Something within her lit up when she talked about that silly little book and he wanted her to have it. She deserved it. He'd felt like a moron standing around in his slacks and jumper holding the stupid thing as the shop lady tittered on about what a precious item it was, inquiring if it was for his children or if he was a collector. He'd hushed the old biddy with a seething glare, paid for the book, and left the blasted store as fast as his feet would carry him.

He didn't know how to present it to her so he just gave it to her, unwrapped and unadorned and the smile she gave him and the way she'd said his name had made his heart flutter…_actually_ flutter!

* * *

_Jan. 9__th_

_Snape,_

_You told me not to make a big deal out of your birthday. I should have listened to you. I was trying to do something nice you git! You didn't have to shout at me when I produced your birthday cake in the Great Hall, especially in front of all the students! Severus, how could you? Of course, you did end up wearing most of it so I suppose fair is foul and foul is fair. Still, you hurt my feelings and I'll have you know after I stormed out, I went to my room and cried for an hour. My next class was awful, even with a glamour, the students could tell I'd been upset and they knew why…that was the worst part. _

_Sometimes, I just wish you'd get over yourself you big jackass. I did it because I care about you. _

He closed the book and felt an incredible pang of guilt. He really had acted horribly and her face had shown him so. He was almost glad when she got angry and threw the cake at him. The tears in her eyes had made him feel like a very small man indeed. At least anger was something he knew how to deal with, a crying woman, not so much. She'd cried for an hour? Over him no less…

She'd bought him a new cloak for a gift, as his had been irreparably damaged due to an unfortunate encounter with one of Hagrid's stupid Blast-Ended Skrewt…he hadn't even thanked her. He opened the book again, quickly searching for a better memory.

* * *

_Feb. 14__th_

_Dear Severus,_

_I'm so glad we decided to skip Valentine's Day. I agree that it is nothing more than a ridiculous tradition that usually leads to fits of emotional blackmail. We both had too much work to bother with it anyway. I never would have gotten those essays graded if we'd taken the time to play act at some overpriced restaurant. I'm very glad we're both sensible people._

_By the way, the orchids were absolutely beautiful. _

He may be 'sensible,' but he was no fool.

* * *

_March. 16__th_

_Dear Severus,_

_I've decided I'm going to tell you I love you. I'm tired of waiting for you to say it first you ridiculous man._

He was shocked when she said it, standing in his room, acting so stoic but trembling like an autumn leaf about to fall. Of course, long before that he knew he loved her too and quickly told her so. He had silently chided himself that she'd beat him to the punch. He should have said it first, wanted to say it first, but hearing it from her lips, not goaded by his own words…gods it was sweet. They'd made love for the first time that night.

* * *

_April. 27__th_

_Dearest, Dearest Severus,_

_I find myself at a complete loss to tell you just how very, very…__very__, sorry I am. I know the words I spoke at the time were of little consolation. Without debate, I shoulder the complete blame for the fiasco, as I know it was at my insistence that we told Harry and Ronald of our relationship. I never once expected Ron to hex you…especially, like…that. I should have killed him on the spot. I might still. I was just too shocked to say or do much of anything when he...well, apparently I put far too much stock in his maturity. Why that hex isn't considered dark magic…I'm at a loss to explain! It's just so horrifically…er, I do suppose 'emasculating' would be the most proper term. _

_Thankfully, most thankfully, you are not permanently altered, as the healer at St. Mungo's has assured me it will indeed grow back in a fortnight. I cannot begin to fathom why no reversal potion or spell has been crafted! _

_I know you don't have much of a desire…(oh Merlin, I'm glad I'm writing this and not saying it as that was a truly unfortunate choice of words;) to see me right now, but, I vow, in two weeks…I will do anything to make this up to you…__anything__._

There was a potion now by Merlin! While that particular indignity may have been temporary, the shrinking spell to which he'd introduced Mister Weasley was a different matter altogether. "Miss Ginevra tells me she's always wanted a sister," had been his parting words to the horrified Ron.

Severus grinned, feeling no remorse. There are some things you just don't do to a man without expecting lasting and severe retribution. He grinned again as he remembered that 'anything.' Honestly, that had almost made those two weeks worth it…_almost._

He really had come to love her, more than anything he'd ever loved actually. Their odd little coupling was, quite honestly, the happiest time of his entire life. He flipped through to the last ink-covered page. It was dated the tenth of June, two days ago.

* * *

_June. 10__th_

_Severus,_

_I…I find myself, no longer satisfied with our relationship. My hands are shaking as I write this. I don't really want to talk to you about it, but I feel I must. I have to be honest with you. Merlin, my heart is beating like a drum. I don't know if I'll be able to do this…but I just don't think I can continue on like this anymore. _

He flipped the page looking for the rest of the writing and found it blank. He read it again; assuring himself he had missed some vital line. There was nothing, nothing leading up to this passage that gave him any indication this was coming.

He felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. He stared at the page in a daze. 'No longer satisfied?' What did it mean? She…she was going to leave him? He skimmed through the other pages to find any additional meaning but found none. She had seemed so happy recently, so radiant, so well, _in love_, and now…she no longer wanted him?

Had he been a lesser man, he'd have wrung his hands and wept. However, being as he was Severus Snape, his natural defense mechanisms snapped into place and the ever faithful, ever bitter fatalist took command of his psyche. It was bound to end anyway. She was too young, too pretty, to sweet, too…_opposite_. It did not matter; she did not matter, stupid slip of a girl...siren, nymph, Circe reincarnated! He'd return her silly little musings and pay her back for her wayward affections with all the bile he could brew within himself.

He shoved the book into his pocket and stalked out of his room, slamming the door so hard upon his exit that the wood split. He had 6th years in half an hour; she would be in the middle of her 7th years right now.


	3. Thunderstruck

**An Unfinished Declaration  
**

**Chapter 3: Thunderstruck**

"…Of the Chaldean method. As you can see, each spell we've covered can be broken down by both the verbal portion that is spoken and the corresponding numerology behind each letter. Now, if you'll open your text…"

The door to her classroom burst open and she jumped at the sound of it crashing into the stone of the castle wall. Severus stood there with his eyes blazing and a look of righteous indignation pasted onto his features.

"Professor Sn-"

"Class dismissed!" he said, his voice booming like clap of thunder.

Hermione straightened her stance, raised her head, and thrust back her shoulders, affronted that he'd barge into her room in such a manner and give_ her_ students leave.

"Professor Snape, I do not believe it is your place to command my classroom."

_What on earth is his problem?_

Severus glared at the students one last time before employing his most menacing tone.

"Get. Out."

Not a one dared disobey. As each of them made haste, filing past him, he brought his gaze back to Hermione's unbelieving stare and quickly reddening face. He narrowed his eyes and hers widened in response.

The last student scurried down the corridor, eager to retreat from the ensuing maelstrom as Snape calmly strode forward, reaching into his pocket as he did so.

"What is this about Severus? I do not take kindly to you dismissing my class without giving me any knowledge as to why!"

"I don't understand your issue Professor Granger. You seem to be quite fond of dismissing things."

" Professor? What are you talking about?" she said, crossing her arms, her face contorting into one of extreme confusion.

He slowly withdrew the journal from his pocket and held it in front of her face, waiting for realisation to hit her. She stared at the book and gasped.

"My notebook!"

"Yes, your precious notebook!" he said, flinging it to the ground. Everything he had intended to say fled his mind as he stared at her, a look of confused hurt spreading across her face. His nostrils flared as he breathed and his brows creased ever further, forming a deep groove of tension between them. "You…with your…you…bloody Jezebel!" And with that rather ineloquent stammer he turned, his robes employing their trademarked billow, and retreated from her room.

She picked up her journal and clutched it to her breasts, feeling stunned, affronted, hurt, and finally, extremely pissed off!

"Jezebel? Don't you dare run away from me Snape!" she said, yelling at him as she ran to the doorway of her classroom.

He'd already made it to the bottom of the corridor stairwell and shot an angry glare up at her before continuing on his way. She took off after him with as much speed as she could muster.

He looked over his shoulder when he heard the furious little clicking of heels on stone. He scowled and increased his gait. She continued to follow after him, muttering a highly inappropriate string of words for a teacher as she did so. Students that had the misfortune to be milling about in the hall at the same moment received the brunt of Snape's wrath as stalked by them, deducting points from their houses on the mere grounds that they were there to witness this moment. Not even Slytherin was immune to his tyranny. They turned sympathetic eyes to Professor Granger who only responded with a snarling admonition to get to class before worse befell them.

She chased him all the way to the outer courts of the castle and finally to the grounds themselves.

"Severus Tobias Snape, you turn around this instant and talk to me you…you…YOU!"

He stopped and slowly turned, resentment, rage, and tension exuding from every feature, his twisted mouth, his hunched shoulders, his tightly balled, white-knuckled fists.

At that moment, the heavens let loose and it started to rain.

"What in Merlin's name is your problem Severus?"

She stood with her hands on her hips, her breath panting due to both her irritation and the exertion of her chase.

"My problem? I don't believe I'm the one with the problem _Miss Granger_," he said icily.

"Don't you _Miss Granger_ me, _Professor! _Now stop acting like such a child and tell me what this is all about as you _obviously_ have some kind of issue."

He walked to her and grabbed the journal from her hand. She was unaware she was still clutching it. He quickly flipped to the last entry and thrust it under her nose, saying nothing.

"You…you read my notebook? I never would have thought you'd betray my trust like that…" her voice was unbelieving.

"…And a good thing I did. Lest we carry on this little charade."

"CHARADE? You unmitigated idiot! This is why you're upset? You had no right! You violated my thoughts, read this without my permission!"

She waved the journal in his face and he batted it away with a sneer.

"Why should I care if I did? As you quite obviously…" he grabbed the book, "how did you put it? Ah yes, 'don't think I can continue on like this anymore,' being as you're so 'unsatisfied' with our relationship," he said, affecting her girlish timbre upon quotation.

She was crying now, hurt mixing with anger, tears and rain streaking down her cheeks like a torrent.

"It serves you bloody right Severus Snape, what I'm about to show you. It serves you bloody right."

She took the book from him and withdrew a Muggle ink pen from her pocket. She turned away and began to scrawl as the rain continued to fall around them. He sulked behind her, waiting, seething. She spun and shoved the journal into his chest with such force that he let out a gasp. He caught the book from her and she looked steadily into his eyes.

"I'd misplaced my book, thank you _so much_ for returning it. Oh, by the way, it was unfinished, what you read…I've rectified it now, this is what it would have said if you...if you hadn't…"

She ran from him, unable to keep from sobbing, shuddering against the rain, which for June seemed unseasonably cold. Wordlessly, he opened to the page that had caused such offense and began to read her addition.

_June. 10__th_

_Severus,_

_I…I find myself, no longer satisfied with our relationship. My hands are shaking as I write this. I don't really want to talk to you about it, but I feel I must. I have to be honest with you. Merlin, my heart is beating like a drum. I don't know if I'll be able to do this…but I just don't think I can continue on like this anymore. _

_I'm just terrified you won't be ready for the things I want to tell you. I'm afraid I'll scare you away. You see Severus, it has come to my attention, that I love you...which, in itself is no new revelation. What is though, is just how __deeply__ I've come to love you, much more so than I ever though possible. It's been eight months, but it might as well have been eight years, or eighty for that matter. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sleep in your arms every night, wake every morning to your face, share each moment with you, good or bad…perhaps, even raise a family; our own children, can you imagine? Oh Severus, I so want to be your wife._

"_My wife…" _

…And for the second time that day, he felt as if lightning had struck him. His nerves were alight, running with an electric fire. He gulped and read her words again….

"_My_ wife…"

And again…

"My _wife…_"

Each realization was another bolt from the blue straight into his heart, and as if to illustrate the point, the sky suddenly lit with the jagged fingers of a white-hot streak followed by a peal of thunder that crackled in the air. The ink was running from the pages as the rain continued to fall. He closed the sopping journal and stood with the look of a man that had been slapped repeatedly.

He hated himself.

* * *

He was fifteen all over again as he placed a frantic knock on her door.

"Hermione…"

"Go away Severus!"

"Please Hermione!"

"I don't want to hear it!"

"I didn't mean it!"

"Go away, just go away!"

"Hermione…please."

He sighed and felt his legs begin to shake at the increasingly familiar scenario.

"Hermione, I've already misspent one lifetime making up for my quick temper and regrettable words…please don't damn me to two."

He waited, but she didn't reply and he slumped to the ground. He didn't have the energy to deal with his foolish pride at the moment. Honestly, he felt as if he might vomit. He leaned against the door and rested his head against the wood, taking a deep gulp of air, trying to still his insides. The next thing he knew he was falling backwards as the door was opened and he lost his prop. He landed with a small thud right in front of the toe of her shoe. He looked up at her from the flat of his back. He could see the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Her complexion was still ruddy, but her expression was less harsh and possibly slightly amused given his position.

"Are you planning on blocking my threshold all day or are you going to stand up and talk to me?"

He scrambled to his feet and she motioned for him to enter. His heart was thumping so loudly in his ears he could barely make out her words. She shut the door and stood against it with her arms crossed and her eyes downcast.

"Hermione…I…I was a fool."

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry."

"You should be. You violated my trust Severus. Do you know how much that hurts?"

"Hermione, if I could undo it, I would. I'm sorry, so sorry…I am ashamed of myself. You know that apologies don't come easy to me, but if I had to spend a thousand years at your feet begging for your forgiveness; I would do it. Though, I don't deserve to be forgiven by you."

"No, you don't…"

He hadn't expected that.

"Right then," he said quickly, amazed at the fact his heart could still find new and incredibly horrible ways to feel pain after all these years of it.

He grasped at a loose thread on the cuff of his coat and swallowed against a hard lump in his throat as he stepped to her door and made his way to leave. He paused though, when met with her, and cupped his hand to her cheek. He heard her diminutive gasp as his fingers grazed across her skin. He slipped his other hand into his pocket and withdrew her journal. She felt him slip into her own pocket and a tear freed itself from her eye.

He pulled his hand away and placed it on the knob of her door.

"Goodbye…Miss Granger."

As he turned the knob, he felt the warmth of her touch.

"Severus…again, you've failed to let me finish what I had to say."

He did not dare move nor look at her.

"I was going to say, no, you don't deserve to be forgiven but, but I do forgive you Severus…because that's what love does. It forgives. You remember what I wrote, right? I want to share each moment, good or bad. Well, this was a bad one… but it shouldn't override all of the good ones. I should have opened the door to you sooner or been calmer but I was angry and hurt too…and you forgive me don't you?"

He slowly turned to her, clearly showing his astonishment.

"You have nothing to ask forgiveness for! I broke your trust, for which…I can't even begin to…Hermione, how…on earth…are you…_this_ good?"

"I'm not, not really at all. I just love you very much you ridiculous fool."

She leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He dropped his hand from the doorknob and scooped her into his arms, burying his face in the bend of her shoulder and neck. He breathed in her scent and for a few moments, just held her, relived that he was allowed to do so. However, he was becoming quite overwhelmed by the need to kiss her, and so, he brought his lips to hers with the fervent thanks of guilty man who knows he's received his pardon.

At the break of the kiss, he brought a hand to her cheek.

"Hermione, the last line you wrote…did you mean it?"

"About being your wife? Yes, I meant it, I meant it with all my heart."

He reached into her pocket and withdrew the book and pen. He opened it to the splotchy, ink-dripped page where she poured her heart out and began to write. He took only a minute and then handed it back to her.

A small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth as she turned the pages. Below her last line he had scribbled out a short, runny message on the still damp page.

_June 12__th_

_Hermione, _

_If you would lower yourself enough to have a ridiculous fool for a husband, I'd love to accept the position._

"Oh Severus!" she said, flinging the book down and wrapping her arms around his neck, "you've got the job! When can you start?"

…And for the umpteenth time that day, as she kissed him, he felt as if lightning had struck.

* * *

AN: Well, I hope you enjoyed this...it was just a fun little thing to write, nothing too terribly deep or interwoven. I would very much appreciate it if you left me a review! Thanks! ~RV


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